-Chapter 44-

-Chapter 44-

-POV Aemon Targaryen-

"Now that the axe-throwing contest is over, we can finally move on to the serious stuff," said my uncle, an eager smile on his face, ready to see who would be the champion of the melee.

I nodded, smiling, and said, "I agree."

"Are you going to participate?" he asked my uncle, who merely shook his head.

I frowned at this 'lack of respect,' and I called my uncle's name, emphasizing it so he'd realize what he was doing: "Gunthor."

"Forgive me, Your Majesty, I was lost in thought," he said.

"No harm done. I see you are also excited about the competition," said the king to the Bronze Giant.

"It's a shame you're not participating," said my uncle Viserys, with a slight sigh, regretting not being able to see my other uncle Gunthor in action, sword in hand.

"I decided not to have him compete. Gunthor is my right hand, and I don't want anything bad to happen to him," I said to my uncle, nodding toward the heir of House Corbray, who was glaring at us intensely.

"By killing the heir of House Redfort, you've made some powerful enemies," the king said to Gunthor, nodding in understanding.

Gunthor said nothing and chose to remain silent, an attitude I approved of. We watched as knights entered the melee one after the other, eager to make a name for themselves.

"Why are there so many of them participating?" I asked, watching the heirs of Great Houses join the fray.

"They all hope to earn a favor from me," said Viserys, with a slight smirk.

'He's doing this to gather the best and most ambitious knights.'

'It wouldn't surprise me to see some of these currently unknown knights guarding the gates of the Red Keep once the tournament is over. That's how he recruited Criston Cole.'

"I didn't know the king's favor was at stake; otherwise, I might have sent my uncle to fight in my name," I said, jokingly.

"It's a tradition I started to reward the best knights of the realm. The champion of the melee has the right to make a request, which I will grant if I deem it feasible."

"That's a fine practice. I might implement it in the Vale."

"The Vale?" asked my uncle.

'Damn,' I thought, realizing my tongue had slipped.

"Many knights wandering the Vale are talented, but due to their isolation or lack of noble presence, they aren't recognized for their true worth. I'm depriving myself of excellent knights who could defend my interests," I said, trying to recover with a nonchalant tone, as if I hadn't noticed what my uncle had really picked up on in my sentence.

I turned to him at the end of my sentence with a small smile, and he did the same, forcing a small smile on his face, though I could clearly see the gears turning in his mind.

'Anyway, it doesn't change anything. The wheels are in motion, and no one can stop them. By tomorrow, Rhaenyra, my father, and I will control the majority of the dragons,' I thought, focusing on the melee that had begun.

---

-POV Leowyn Corbray-

"Marq, Alester, I trust you to watch my back, protect me," I said to my two friends, who were also Jasper's friends and had decided to help me.

Both nodded, then took their positions. Very quickly, we found ourselves overwhelmed by all the knights fighting fiercely for the king's favor.

'Unfortunately for them, I was determined to win it, and armed with Lady Forlorn.'

Few could withstand more than three strikes from me, for even though I wasn't an exceptional swordsman, I wielded my House's Valyrian steel sword and fought to win...

'For revenge, not for some useless praise,' I thought, narrowly dodging a sword blow that could have ended my winning streak.

I slashed my sword at his face with all my strength. My opponent blocked the strike with his sword, which shattered under the weight of the impact and the sharpness of my blade.

"Surrender," I said, placing my sword at his throat.

He accepted, throwing the broken half of his sword to the ground.

'That's the fifth one,' I thought.

I surveyed the area, now much more deserted than at the start, and counted about twenty participants left.

Corpses lay scattered on the ground, but it didn't bother me. It wasn't the first time I had seen a corpse.

'In fact, I hope to see one very soon,' I thought, looking at Prince Aemon, who was staring back at me.

---

-POV Aemon Targaryen-

'This is pathetic,' I thought, realizing now what Jeyne and Jessamyn had been plotting.

'A duel,' I thought, disappointed, as I had expected something more sophisticated, like an assassination in the streets of the capital or even poisoning.

After all, I had deliberately withheld information about my sword training for moments like this, so they would continue to underestimate me and try to catch me off guard.

'Without realizing that the real fools in this story were them all along.'

"You're not enjoying this? You seem upset," Viserys asked me.

"As you've surely heard from the many rumors circulating about me in the capital, I have trouble with the sight of blood," I said, dodging the question, as it was partly true.

I didn't enjoy killing. I did it only to gain attribute points, and I didn't like unnecessary deaths.

'I only kill personally when it's absolutely necessary. Usually, I leave those tasks to my subordinates.'

"I understand you, in part. Personally, I don't like unnecessary conflicts."

"But you organize tournaments."

"I am king."

I nodded, understanding his point of view, before pointing out to my uncle the obvious cheating of the three companions in the arena, who had teamed up to eliminate an excellent knight in the service of House Velaryon.

"Leowyn Corbray really wants to win this melee to stoop to such tactics," I said lightly.

"Hmm," my uncle responded, saying nothing more.

I frowned at the lack of response and added:

"I imagine he'll ask you to reconsider the judgment against Gunthor."

Seeing that he still didn't respond, I narrowed my eyes slightly, mentally preparing myself to do something I didn't enjoy.